“No…” I breathed. “No, no, no.”
“Could it be?” I didn’t miss the glint of happiness in her hazy eyes.
“No. Impossible. I’m always so careful. We used condoms, and I’m on the pill…”
Except that Ronan and I had stopped using condoms months ago, and I got drunk the night the shop was wrecked. I puked up everything in my system until there was nothing left. The next day, I was a mess. Not thinking. I couldn’t remember taking my pill that day.
“But I slept with Ronan,” I murmured. “ThatI remember.” I clapped a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God.”
I pulled myself together enough to drive to the drugstore. When I came back, I locked myself in the bathroom with the little stick and waited. But I already knew. My sense of smell was insanely strong, and my stomach felt queasy whenever I stopped crying long enough to notice.
The five minutes was up. I picked up the stick, and there was the little pink plus sign. It fell into the trash, dropped from nerveless fingers.
“Just like Mama,” I whispered.
Except I loved Ronan. The night we slept together was beautiful—a flicker of warmth in a cold storm.
Bibi was waiting on the couch. “Well?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Christ, saying the words out loud sent a shiver of fear down my spine.
Bibi smiled to herself, then scattered the cats and patted the cushion next to her. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
I dropped beside her. “There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t have this baby, Bibi. I can’t run a business and have a baby. I can’t.”
“Well, the fact that you’re talking about running your business is an improvement, since as of three hours ago, you wouldn’t get out of bed. Already this baby is motivating you.”
“I’m serious. Ronan is gone. For ten years. He won’t even talk to me. I can’t even tell him he’s a fa—” The word stuck in my throat. “I can’t do this alone.”
“You won’t be alone.” She held up her hand. “I know, I’m an old lady, but Ronan gave you a bunch of money—”
“That I can’t bring myself to spend.”
“You can if it’s to take care of the child you two made,” she said, and that glint of happiness was back.
I shook my head. “It’s not the money, Bibi. Or the work even. I can’t be like Mama. Keeping a baby and then resenting him or her. Making them feel worthless their entire life.”
Bibi leveled me with a harsh look. “You honestly believe you would do that? After everything you’ve been through? Because I don’t.”
“No,” I admitted. “But I can’t know the future, except how impossibly hard it’s going to be. And if I do manage to keep my head above water, people won’t see the work. They’ll see a single mother with the father in jail. I’ll become a statistic.”
“I’m not going to hear you talk like that, Shiloh,” Bibi said sternly. “That’s small thinking. Behind every statistic is a human being with a story. Like your mama. She told you her awful secret but not how hard she struggled after.”
“But you know the whole story, Bibi. You’ve always known. They all did. Why didn’t you or Bertie orsomeonetell me?”
“Because Marie made us promise. She swore she’d do it her way, in her time.”
“Drunk, in front of everyone? In front of Ronan?” Shame wanted to curl me back into a ball.
“Her way and her time were all wrong, obviously. And over the years, I wanted to break my promise and tell you proper. But you know why I didn’t?”
I shook my head.
“Because it didn’t matter.” She reached to touch my cheek. “You are a treasure to me, Shiloh, and have been since the moment you came to live here. I knew telling you would only make you question your worth. Instead, I tried to raise you to believe in yourself. To let your value come from within. And I think I did a pretty darn good job. You know how I know? Because you love Ronan Wentz with your whole heart.”
I nodded. “I do. I love him so much.”